Dave Creek is the author of the novels CHANDA'S HOMECOMING, WATCHER OF THE SKIES, ALL HUMAN THINGS, CHANDA'S AWAKENING, and SOME DISTANT SHORE, novellas TRANQUILITY and THE SILENT SENTINELS, and short story collections A GLIMPSE OF SPLENDOR, THE HUMAN EQUATIONS, THE SECRET OF PLAINSVILLE, and KAYONGA'S DECISION.

His short stories have appeared in ANALOG SCIENCE FICTION AND FACT, AMAZING STORIES, and APEX magazines, and the anthologies FAR ORBIT APOGEE, TOUCHING THE FACE OF THE COSMOS, and DYSTOPIAN EXPRESS.

Kayonga's Decision and Other Stories by Dave Creek

Dave's novella A CROWD OF STARS and novel THE UNMOVING STARS have won the "Best Science Fiction Novel" award from Louisville's Imaginarium Convention.

This my third short story collection, and within these pages you'll find some familiar series characters including Carrie Molina and Leo Bakri alongside some newer characters who may or may not become regulars in my stories. These tales take place a billion years in the past and over 150 years in the future, on Earth, and on far-flung alien worlds.

 

REVIEWS

  • "(Dave Creek) provides perspectives that are both exhilarating and unnerving: intelligent whales swimming through the Jovian atmosphere, aliens who were forced to evacuate their homeworld and watch while it collided with a rogue planet . . . . What do we do if we move onto a world with a dazzling ring system but discover the ring system is causing severe ecological damage?"

    – From the introduction by Jack McDevitt
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

With each awakening, each resurrection as I think of it, my lifespan shortens. This first thought always floods my consciousness even as the liquid nutrients that have sustained me within the stasis chamber swirl away. My body warms, all my arms and both legs loosen up, both hearts once again beat in rhythm. Despite my own sacrifice in waking up yet again, it pleases me that the ship, the Shovach, has found another potential star system for the remnants of my people. The curve of my chamber's transparent cover reflects that pleasure back down toward me in the soft gray glow of my crest.

The chamber's diagnostic systems run through their final examinations of my physical and mental status, making sure no infections, blood clots, or other medical factors endanger me, that my senses have returned to their full functioning, and that the Shovach's life-support systems and artificial gravity have started up properly. Diving into stasis, then returning years or centuries later, takes a toll upon the body, and the ship must know that I can function.

I answer the usual questions, yes, I know my name, Draiora, I represent one of the last refugees from the doomed planet Ytani, and the ship has awakened me to examine the latest star system that could provide my people with a new home.

As often happens in these final moments before the chamber opens, my consciousness, unbidden, brings up images of my homeworld, Ytani, and its destruction. I shake my head back and forth, trying to force my attention elsewhere even as the reflection of my crest turns from gray to a brilliant, sad, white, but the result remains the same as with all my other awakenings — the close approach of the rogue planet Udeni, tidal stresses tearing away my homeworld's crust, cities torn asunder, billions upon billions dying in an instant. Even as my chamber's cover opens upward, my attention remains focused on memories of those two worlds as they collide and begin to merge. I sit up and swing my legs onto the floor, making sure to hold on tight to the edge of the chamber with all four arms, and recall looking back at the remains of two worlds in the process of melding together, magma flowing freely, their atmosphere and volatiles vaporizing into space, lost forever. Images that will continue to haunt me for the rest of my days, no matter how many centuries those days might embrace.

No other planets in our star system existed that could support intelligent life. Our starship Shovach accelerated quickly out of the system, until even our sun faded into the distance, one undistinguished star among so many.

I stand, legs wobbly, and take my first tentative steps. This awakening already demands a higher toll, both physical and mental, from me, and it takes longer than usual for me to regain my balance and ability to step forward with confidence. The body only contains so much vitality, and each successive period spent in stasis drains more of that vitality than the previous ones.

All around me stand dozens more stasis chambers containing the other fifty-five Ytani adult individuals the ship may choose to awaken when it arrives at a star system that could contain a possible colony planet. In planning this mission, our best estimates told us that we would certainly find a suitable world to colonize within a few decades, requiring only a few awakenings, probably none of us more than once.

Now we live with that miscalculation. I've awakened nine times so far across several centuries, and ship's records show that others have gone through even more periods of stasis and awakening. Within a few more centuries, none of us may have the vitality we need to continue our explorations and, if we find success, to establish a colony on some yet-unknown world.